The Lady Drake
by Banana Flavored Eskimo
Summary: Being stranded in a strange and unknown land would be cause enough for problem. However, Hermione Granger has always been an over achiever and never did anything by halves. Therefore, why not have fate step in once again and transform her into a dragon? Say what now? Eventual (Thorin/Hermione)
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 01**  
 **By: Banana Flavored Eskimo**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

Her neck was at such an odd angle. How could she possibly be staring at the sky when she was so obviously lying flat on her stomach? Lifting her head proved to be much more difficult than usual as the action required far more strength than what she was used to. And was it her, or did the action also take much longer than usual?

Questions flew through her mind at a mile a minute as she spied a gleaming pile of gold sitting right behind her. How peculiar to find such a large amass of treasure lying about in the open.

Leaning forward, she inspected the precious metals only to find that it was not gold at all, but instead scales. Warm scales that moved in sync with each breath she took.

Merlin! It had to be a creature of some sort, but what?

Deciding to investigate further, she peered down at the curious bundle only to realize that she should not have been able to move in such a manner.

Stumbling back, she found herself to be much larger than what she was used to and horribly unbalanced due to a multitude of reasons. Her analytical mind quickly categorized the anomalies more out of habit than anything. It also distracted herself from having a full on panic attack.

1\. Her neck was unusually long, almost swan like in length and shape.  
2\. She was now standing on four legs instead of two and could see sharp deadly claws curling about each long scaled appendage.  
3\. The gleaming scales of gold that she had been admiring a few moments ago was indeed her own.  
4\. She had to be reptilian in some shape or form given the rest of her analysis.  
5\. She had wings and only one type of scaled animal had wings.

Conclusion: She was a dragon.

A scoff escaped her lips that was followed by a strange stinging sensation in her mouth. It was as if she had touched the tip of her tongue with a low electric current of some sort. It was tolerable, but more irritating than anything.

Sitting down proved to be quite cumbersome as she tried to seat herself on her rear like she had seen her familiar do so many times in the past, yet as a dragon it proved to be a very uncomfortable position. Shifting, she tried once again to lay on her side. Her long sinuous tail curled around her large frame lazily and she paused briefly to admire the coloring of her scales. This position was a vast improvement, but still felt decidedly uncomfortable.

Pouring through her encyclopedic like knowledge, she did her best to recall everything she had learned from her Care of Magical Creature class - specifically everything she had read up on about dragons.

She recalled once piece of information about elder drakes that mentioned that they preferred to lay upon vast piles of gold and gems. Contrary to popular belief, dragons were not greedy creatures because they had no need for material wealth or status. Dragons hoarded gold for one simple reason: comfort.

Due to their nearly impervious scales, dragons needed a hard, yet malleable metal to rest on - gold. It yielded to their enormous girth, yet still provided a firm resting ground.

There was a theory that gold was also an essential part of a dragons life force. It was well known that dragons would place the priority of a well amassed hoard over food. Given that a dragon could survive decades without sustenance only helped to solidify the theory, but nothing had been proven as the dragons of her age were much different than the ones of old.

Which lead to another theory. If she had indeed taken the form of a dragon of an older era, that meant…

"Testing, testing. One. Two. Three."

She was somewhat shocked to hear her own familiar voice emanate from her new vocal chords. It did not sound any different and perhaps she had been expecting a lower timbre given her new gargantuan frame, but she still retained her original tone.

Given this new set of conclusions, she was rather proud that she had managed to keep calm. However, given her previous experiences and escapades with her friends, she also had a lot of practice adjusting to bizarre and somewhat unpredictable situations.

Now came the questions as to where in the world was she?

Her first thought was that she must be in the Forbidden Forest, but a deep breath told her that she was incorrect. She could not explain it, but the magic smelled different here. It was earthy and far more pure than anything she had ever felt in her years of schooling.

Rising to a standing position took some effort as she had quite a few new appendages to worry about, but she was able to manage a steady sort of gait as she ambled about the wide clearing.

Flapping her wings experimentally, she was somewhat disheartened to learn that they were not capable of lifting her enormous size from the ground, but they did create large gusts of winds that rustled tree branches and sent birds flying.

Perhaps she would avoid doing that in the future until she came to larger open space.

Her next thought was to try and shift to her original form.

Logic told her that she was not a dragon, despite her current form. It also told her that magical animagus shapes were not possible.

However, she ignored that piece of information and instead focused on her breathing as she visualized her original shape.

It was much more comfortable than using a portkey or apparating as she felt herself shrinking drastically until she was able to discern her very human hands.

"Goodness," she breathed after gathering a moment to collect herself.

Her dragon form must be quite large considering that she clearly remembered being eye level with the tree tops. Now those same trees towered above her.

"Hey!"

Startled, she turned towards the sound to find a young human boy who looked to be around the age of sixteen - not much younger than herself. He was rather lithe like a swimmer and had a smattering of freckles across his nose that reminded her dearly of her red headed friend.

"Oh pardon my lady. I was expecting to find a large beast of sorts here. My father and his men were running a perimeter check when we noticed a disturbance in the trees."

She took in a sharp breath as she fought to remain calm. She was most definitely that disturbance.

It must have been apparent that she was unsettled because the young male immediately abandoned the short sword he was carrying and approached her slowly.

"Now don't be worrying Miss. I promise that no beast will hurt you as long as I am here. I swear on my honor."

He was rather noble and had the situation not be so bizarre she would have found his pledge endearing. As it was, she was still trying to gather her wits about herself.

The shouts of men only added to her anxiety as she felt herself collapse.

The boy made his way quickly to her side and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder as he called out to the newcomers. "Father! Over here. There be no beast in this area."

A burly man of about forty burst through and into the clearing, a group of other males of varying ages and sizes following him easily. "Shiron! Never run off ahead of me like that again. What if you had encountered a dragon?"

She flinched at the word and the action brought her presence to his attention. "What do you have there?"

"Father. I found her and she's in need of our help."

The male that could only be Shiron's father ambled closer to see his eldest crouched rather protectively beside a fair young looking maiden. The poor thing was shaking like a leaf in the wind. He took in her rather expensive looking cloak and guessed that she must be of noble blood. The coloring alone was telling as having a cloak of deep burgundy with gold trimming was not something a simple country girl would ever be able to afford.

"You poor lass. Help her up Shiron and let us bring her back to the city."

Strong yet gentle hands helped her to her feet as she felt herself sway slightly.

"There now miss. Don't worry. I have you."

"Shiron! Shiron!"

A young boy of about six burst through the tree line. His dark raven tresses were horribly messy on his head as he beamed up at the elder boy with something akin to hero worship.

"Girion! Mother will kill me and then skin you if she learns that you skipped your lessons again to follow father and I," he scolded lightly.

"But I wanted to help patrol," complained the young child.

Shiron let out a short laugh as he stared at his youngest sibling fondly. "There was no trouble this time Girion, but we did find a lovely young miss in need. Do you suppose you could help me guard her on the way back?"

Girion stood straight as he saluted his brother. "Of course I can! Miss? Miss, may I know your name?"

Shiron wanted to smack himself for forgetting something so simple as pleasantries.

The woman, who had been quite amused by the exchange between siblings, was able to kneel down rather gracefully before the young child. Her smile was absolutely enchanting as they lit up her deep brown eyes with kindness. "My name is Hermione my noble knight."

Girion blushed at being called a knight, but seemed even more pleased as he grinned widely at the young woman.

Shiron looked absolutely enchanted.

Their father simply laughed with the rest of his men. It looked as if his eldest finally found someone to fancy. It was about time. As the next Lord of Dale, Shiron was far too focused on his training to care about the young women in their thriving town.

Perhaps this mysterious maiden would be his future daughter-in-law. To be honest, he hoped that they would take a liking to one another. Noble breeding shone through and he had a feeling that an alliance with a wealthy nation was on the horizon.

* * *

Dale was a bustling city rich in trade and culture. It was situated at the foot of the Lonely Mountain, home to a great dwarven kingdom.

Hermione was somewhat surprised to learn that Shiron was son to King Axion, ruler of Dale. Despite his title, he did not act very princely. He was actually quite humble and a bit too serious at times. She supposed it had to do with being the next in line for the throne, but she found herself liking the young man.

If she were honest with herself, she would admit that he was also very handsome. Deep blue eyes and raven black hair added to his allure. Pair it with that honest smile of his and it was no wonder she had been on the receiving end of more than one dark look from the young women in the city.

However, there was one thing she found absolutely taxing about his character. Shiron hovered. He was actually worse than Molly Weasely when it came to checking on her well-being and even though she knew he meant well, she really needed space.

Which brought her to her current position wedged between a narrow bookcase and wall in the kingdom's vast library.

This is what she had been reduced to. Hermione Granger. Order of Merlin: First Class. War hero of the second great wizarding war. Brightest witch of the age and most probably the first magical to accomplish a complete animagus shift into a magical creature. And she was hiding from a mortal boy that acted more like a mother hen than anything.

She supposed that she could not fault him.

Since her arrival one year prior, Hermione had found herself growing weaker. She had discreetly ran diagnostic spells - thankfully her wand had survived and been tucked in the many folds of her robe - and found nothing wrong with her physically.

Magically, however, was a different story. It was as if her magical core was diminishing and to be honest, the thought frightened her.

It was one reason why she had been in the library in the first place. When in doubt, Hermione always went to the library as it always held answers. In this case, she was in luck because the public library of Dale was diverse and grand with tomes and scrolls from all corners of Middle Earth.

The librarians had been somewhat reluctant to let her handle some of their more delicate scrolls, thinking her to be uneducated. Educated females were a rarity in these times and only those of noble birth thought to put their daughters through schooling and even then it was limited.

Hermione had always been a scholar and was somewhat affronted from being denied knowledge. What followed had been a very vocal young woman lecturing two elderly librarians and showing them that she was not some random piece of fluff. They had been more accommodating after that and let her use the library as she saw fit.

It was here she found answers about this new and foreign land. It was here she learned more about drakes and their characteristics. It was here she found that she was definitely in an alternate dimension.

She had not allowed herself to grieve for everything she lost as logic overcame emotions as she pushed on to learn more. Perhaps when she was more settled she would analyze her feelings on a deeper level, but now she had other things on her mind.

Her weakening magical core being the most prevalent of her concerns led her to a theory that it was closely linked with her new magical form. When Sirius had taken on his canine form, there were certain behavioral aspects that she observed from him. One in particular was companionship. Dogs were social creatures and without proper stimulation, grew depressed and withdrawn. The same happened with Sirius when he had been confined in Azkaban and once again in Grimmuald. She never made the connection, until now, when she felt a pull towards the Lonely Mountain.

She had read in an old scroll that the mountain housed one of the largest treasures sought by elf, man and dwarf alike. It was a large store of gems, rubies, emeralds and other precious stones that made her heart race with the thought of laying upon such an impressive treasure.

Shaking herself from such thoughts she made a decision. She would leave for the Lonely Mountain come nightfall.

* * *

The Lonely Mountain was aptly named. Despite being the home to the greatest kingdom of the realm, it looked to be rather daunting from the outside.

"Halt! Who goes there?"

The voice called out from above. Peering upwards, Hermione could make out a stout little face hidden behind a thick beard decorated with braids and beads. "Please master dwarf. I seek an audience with your king."

"What could a child of man - let alone a woman - have to say to the great king Thrór?"

At this, Hermione raised her wand and sent a powerful glow, the spell lighting up the area around her magnificently.

"Istari," he breathed in an awestruck tone.

Hermione did not correct him. Let him make his own conclusions. Her concern was the king from under the mountain.

* * *

King Thrór was used to long days. Hours spent pouring over scrolls and meeting with his advisors led to many sleepless nights for the great king.

"My king. A female Istari is asking for an audience."

Sitting up in his throne, he cast a glance at his young grandson, Thorin. At less than twenty years, he was still considered to be an adolescent among his people. He looked to be around five human years and was quite tall for a dwarf of his age. Thrór had great hopes for him and knew that he would bring glory to the line of Dain.

"Go to your room Thorin."

"But I wish to see this Istari. I was not aware that there were female wizards."

Thror's lips pressed into a thin line. Indeed, it was quite puzzling. The four wizards were a peculiar race and tended to keep close company with elves. Perhaps this female would be similar?

"Very well, you may stay, but do not interrupt."

"Yes."

Looking to his guards, he motioned for them to open the doors to the throne room. Let her see the magnificence of Erobor.

Hermione practically hummed with pleasure as she entered the golden hall of the dwarven realm. By the Gods it was beautiful.

Stepping into the gilded hallway, she took note of the gleaming golden halls and jewel encrusted sconces. Before her transformation, she would have found the entire display to be quite gaudy. Now she found it to be absolutely breathtaking.

"Istari. I, Thrór, son of Dáin I welcome you to the halls of Erobor."

Taking a deep breath of the very air within the mountain, Hermione swept into a graceful curtsey before the dwarven king. "My Lord, I thank you for seeing me without any notice. I apologize, but it was quite urgent."

Thrór was intrigued.

When his guards had mentioned a female Istari, he had expected an old crone. However, before him was an enchanting young female with eyes like garnets and skin that gleamed under his golden lights. Had he not already found his one, he probably would have thought of courting her.

Istari were invaluable allies and tying one through the bonds of marriage would seal his dominance over other realms.

Thorin must have thought something along the lines of his grandfather because he too was captivated by the female Istari. He had never seen a female from another race before and was not sure what to make of her. She certainly did not resemble any of the dwelleth's he knew. She was also rather slender, petite was the word he had learned the other day, and had no facial hair to keep her chin warm. Peculiar.

Stepping from beside his grandfather's throne, he watched the female Istari make eye contact with himself and fought the urge to blush as she smiled brilliantly at him.

He decided then and there that he quite liked her smile and was happy it was not hidden by a beard.

"Thorin, step back lad."

"Oh please my Lord, do not be angry. He must be curious. I surmise this is the first time he has met someone outside his race?"

"A female yes. My grandson is still young."

"He is strong. You should be proud my Lord because he is sure to bring greatness to the line of Durin," she said softly.

Thrór laughed outright at her words and felt himself practically preen under her praise. She really was enchanting.

"My Lord, before we get off topic, I would like to speak with you about a delicate matter and I hope that you keep and open mind."

Sensing the seriousness in her tone, Thrór turned towards his youngest. "Please go to bed Thorin."

Knowing best not to question his grandfather, Thorin nodded obediently and disappeared behind a hallway with two guards to escort him to his chambers.

He really hoped that whatever it was this Istari said to his father did not incite his anger. He wanted to see her again and hoped to receive more of her smiles.

* * *

How to begin?

Perhaps the Gryffindor approach was best? Dwarves were known for their brash and blunt mannerisms.

"I seek access to your treasure room."

Thrór was waiting for this strange Istari to say more as her kind tended to speak in riddles, but it seemed that this one was more dwarf like than most. For that he appreciated her direct approach, yet what she was requesting was ludicrous.

"No." He said simply.

"My lord, I do not want any of your gold. I just wish to lay in it."

"You make it seem as if you are some dragon."

"I am," she said not missing a beat.

"What?"

"I am what I suppose you call a hybrid. I am not sure why or how I achieved that particular form, but all I know is that my magical core is getting weaker with every breath I take. I just need to lie in your treasure room for a few hours each day in order to regain stability."

Thrór understood the words coming from her mouth, but had problems grasping the thought that this young woman was a dragon.

Hermione, seeing his confusion, thought to show him directly.

The shift was easy, much easier than she though it would be and soon she too was gleaming alongside the golden halls of the great throne room of Erobor. Luckily, she was much smaller than other drakes and still had a lot of space to turn about and walk around if she felt so inclined.

Thrór was gobsmacked at the vision before him. Despite her rather daunting form, she was still breathtaking, perhaps even more so in this form because she glittered like the finest gold of his treasury. He was sure if she were to actually lie upon the piles, she would blend in quite easily with the rest of his wealth.

"In return I offer you my magic and protection. Nobody would dare attack you with a drake guarding your treasure and kingdom," she stated.

Now that was intriguing, but could he trust her word?

Seeing his hesitancy, she decided to ease his worries. "I swear upon my magic that I will guard the treasures and lives of the Lonely Mountain with all that I am and seek no compensation other than the permission to simply lay amongst the wealth of Erobor. So mote it be."

Her words rang true and Thrór knew she meant them for he felt the oath take place in his very heart and wash across his kingdom.

"So be it lady drake. I will allow you to take refuge in my treasure room, but guard it and my people well or-"

"You need not tell me of the stakes my Lord. An oath such as mine binds me magically and only can be broken upon death," she stated solemnly.

"Very well," he said. "Come along then. Your room awaits," he said with a small quirk of his brow.

Hermione grinned a very dragon like grin that showcased all over her sharp teeth. The look would have been quite frightening, if it weren't for the wagging tail showing her pleasure at his words.

* * *

"Hermione! Thank the Valar you are ok!"

Hermione smiled as she was practically swept up into Shiron arms, his body pressing her slight form against his own in absolute relief.

She had not even entered the city of Dale as Shiron had intercepted them at the gate. He looked absolutely exhausted as his slender build shook a bit from the exerted strength he had given upon their greeting.

"Shiron. I'm sorry for worrying you, but I needed to leave. If I hadn't, I probably would have died."

And she was not exaggerating in the least for when she had finally collapsed upon Thror's vast treasure, she could feel her life force return to her.

"Please unhand the Lady Drake as she is not to be addressed so casually by strangers," called a gruff voice from behind her.

Hermione blushed as she recalled the dwarven guard that Thror had sent along with her to Dale. They were a rather stern group of six dwarves and Thror had bragged that they were his fiercest warriors. She had tried to refuse at first, seeing as she was only going to Dale, but Thror had been adamant and she really could not argue with him. It was like arguing with a brick wall.

"Wha?"

Shiron's puzzlement was clear as he gazed at the stocky guard of dwarves, each emblazoned with emblems of the house of Durin and suited in armor of the finest quality. He knew that a shield alone would cost a small fortune.

"Shiron. I needed to speak with king Thror about a rather delicate matter and we have come to an agreement. I just wanted to return to inform you that I will not be staying here permanently."

The young prince was shaking his head and he tried to grasp what she was saying. "Hermione I-"

"And she is to be addressed as Lady Drake," interrupted another dwarf in the same gruff tone.

"Lady Drake?" He questioned with a frown.

Hermione winced. She did not want to reveal her exact nature, but seeing as though the dwarves were being so rigid in their formalities, she knew that she needed to tell Shiron everything.

"Shiron, when you found me you were right. There was a great beast in the clearing."

"Hermione. My lady, I do not-"

Placing her fingers upon his lips, she marveled at the smoothness of his mouth before smiling sadly. "There is a reason they are calling me by the title drake Shiron."

The look of absolute horror on his face was like a dagger through her heart. "Shiron, please-"

"I think you should go."

"Shiron I-

"And address me by my proper title Lady Drake."

The cold disattachment of his voice practically broke her as tears began to gather in her eyes. However, as a first teardrop fell, the soft 'clink' upon stone drew her attention to the perfect tear drop shaped ruby upon the ground.

Shiron looked torn between amazement and revulsion. It only caused more tears to fall as gemstones of quartz, emerald and diamond materialized from her fallen tears.

The dwarves looked absolutely entranced as they realized that their lords dragon could create gems of such perfection with her tears alone. The possibilities were endless and the greed in their eyes apparent.

Hermione gathered herself as she stepped back from a stone faced Shiron and looked to her assembled guard that had gathered the precious gems for future use. "My apologies for my deception your highness. I will not bother you with my presence again."

With that, she simply turned away from her first friend in this world back towards the Lonely Mountain.

Shiron watched her go as he picked up the first fallen tear of the woman he had fallen deeply for. A beautiful ruby. His own tears began to fall as he realized what he had done.

* * *

 **AN:** Why? Because I can.

Forgive me. I started another fic when I haven't finished the others.

In addition, my computer was reformatted so everything was erased so I'm trying to recall what I had written previously. It's not an easy task.

It has been ages since I've read The Hobbit, so if you see any problems let me know. Obviously Shiron is a created character, but I thought it would be fun to add him to the mix.

Review?

\- Banana Flavored Eskimo


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 02**

 **By: Banana Flavored Eskimo**

* * *

Many years were spent in Erobor and she saw the great dwarven kingdom rise as Thrór's greed ran deep. Each passing day meant mining deeper and deeper into the core of the great earth as his lust for gems and wealth grew to the extreme.

At times, she would be standing at his side silently encouraging his gold lust, but then logic would permeate her thoughts and she realized how dangerous this course of action was.

She tried to speak with Thorin, as he was not tainted by the Arkenstone like his grandfather, but he merely brushed off her concerns and would distract her with his rather ardent attempts at courting her. Honestly, she was not sure what it was about princes and their attraction to her, but she supposed she did give off an air of mystery that had most wondering about this exotic female, the Lady Drake.

Hermione was flattered, how could she not be? Thorin was a very handsome dwarf and his height surprisingly matched her own. She knew that she was petite for human standards, but Thorin was considered a giant by dwarven ones. Paired with his slate colored eyes and roguish smirk and she'd be a fool not to find him attractive.

However, with that came his stubborn arrogance that unfortunately matched her own. Perhaps it was her more serpentine half, but she found herself to be rather haughty at times, especially when confronted with others that wished to challenge her in the art of mind games.

She loved puzzles and riddles and excelled exponentially when it came to solving them. She was unmatched and had come to love those that sang her praises and spoke of her sharp intellect.

"My Lady," came a deep voice from her left.

Seeing as Thrór was too involved with overseeing the excavation of his newest network of mines, meant that it was another one of Durin's folk, for she was standing on the dais beside an opulent throne and none save herself and the royal family were allowed here.

"Thorin," she responded with a lazy quirk of her brow.

That was another thing. She had grown quite fond of teasing the young prince as she had seen him grow from child to adult within the span of four decades. She would never let him forget that it was she he used to come crying to when he had night terrors as a young dwarfling.

She hoped it would deter his interest in her, but instead it created another aspect to their already complicated relationship and Thorin loved challenges as much as herself.

Boldly stepping behind her, he took in her scent of raw metal and fire. It was heady to one such as he, born from stone and created in Mahal's image. She was such a tempting little thing and he had wanted her for as long as he could remember.

It began as more of a fondness for her presence as she had a soft spot for young one's and adored playing with children. She even allowed them to crawl all over her dragon form, letting them use her back and tail like a slide as they pranced around the golden drake without any fear.

And they did not have to fear because Hermione was a gentle soul and did not like physical violence in any form. If anything, she preferred to tear her opponents down verbally and seeing her cut through even the most hard headed dwarf with a few well placed words had him wanting to put that wicked mouth of hers to other uses.

She was his own obsession and all those in the realm knew of his claim. One visiting dwarf had attempted to steal a kiss. Before she even rebuffed his efforts, he had been dragged out by the scruff of his neck by a very angry dwarven prince. From then on, the Lady Drake was off limits and nobody dared to approach her in such a way again.

Bringing a large hand to her mass of silky curls, he toyed with a soft tendril as he eyed the gown she was wearing. It was most definitely a creation from their royal seamstress as the dwarrowden had hailed the foreign woman as her muse. Indeed, whatever it was that the Lady Drake wore, it seemed as others were eager to follow as she effortlessly set fashion trends among the grand halls of Erobor.

Today she was swathed in a dress of gold and ivory. It flowed quite tastefully around her petite frame, but daringly left her shoulders deliciously bare. He ached to taste her sun kissed skin and test the softness himself.

"Thorin, if you are going to say something please do so. I know you have other matters to attend to, seeing as your cousin Dain will be visiting the mountain soon," she said wisely.

"If you would agree to wear the beads I had crafted for you, then I wouldn't be so distracted my Lady."

"You'd be distracted if I was standing in a burlap sack covered in mud," Hermione commented with a grin.

"Well yes, but it would mostly be due to the fact that you were dirty and wearing a potato sack. I would honestly begin to question your sanity," he replied.

She laughed.

She laughed honestly and openly and it caused his heart to soar. Such a sweet and delectable sound.

"Hermione," he began using her true name. A name that was unknown to all save his father, grandfather and himself. "Why do you continue to deny me?"

"Thorin, I do not know if I can even conceive, let alone carry a child to term. You need someone that will carry on your name and provide you with strong sons that will live true to the line of Durin."

Thorin was aghast. He could care less if she could not give him children. His sister was growing up to be a fine dwarrowden and his younger brother was more than capable of providing an entire brood as soon as he grew and settled. Surely between the two of them, there would be more than enough dwarflings to carry on the line.

"Is that truly the only reason _ghivashel_?"

Hermione took in a sharp intake of breath as she heard the endearment slip from his lips like honey.

The dwarven language, otherwise known as Khuz-ghul, was an intricate one closely guarded by the people. It was also one steep in tradition and formalities. Compared to other languages, it was actually the most difficult language to learn in Middle Earth.

When Thrór had ordered a linguist to teach her the language it was a great honor indeed and she thrived when it came to speaking the foreign tongue. In fact, she found that it was quite ideal when in dragon form as the deep growling letters and harsh vowels were much easier to pronounce in that shape.

However, hearing that particular word caused her heart to flutter rapidly. Turning towards the young prince, she gave him a rather searching look. "Thorin."

"You said it time and time again. I am a stubborn dwarf with a head harder than a rock. You should know considering you're quite the same," he stated.

Seeing as she was about to protest, he hushed her by placing his fingers upon her lips. " _Ghivashel_ , say yes."

How could she possibly say no?

"Yes."

His answering smile was blinding, far brighter than any of the treasure of Erobor, as the young prince pressed his lips against her own.

It had been some very taxing few decades, but finally she found herself truly content.

* * *

Her happiness was not to last for the day when Thorin was to braid her hair and add his courting beads, a great dragon struck.

Smaug he was called. A great fire drake whose stench alone was a foul odor that saturated the air like a heavy fog. Gleaming scales of deep red and gold covered his bulk as wings stretched far to cause great gales that knocked over trees lining the Lonely Mountain.

The halls of Erobor were in absolute chaos and Hermione was awestruck with fear as she gazed at this mighty drake.

"Your gold calls to me dwarves of Erobor. Leave now for I claim it as my own," came his deep growling timbre.

Thrór, the stubborn fool that he was, was too far gone. His mind had been corrupted by the Arkenstone and his lust of treasure ran deep as he called out to the might dragon. "Leave you odious worm or you shall face the wrath of the great drake of Erobor."

Hermione wanted to curl up and disappear, but duty called as she felt the pull of her oath bind her.

"Hermione!"

Thorin's voice was lost in a cacophony of sound as dwarves fled for their very lives. Seeing Smaug's sinister smile brought flashbacks of Bellatrix Lestrange. It only fueled her ire as she saw his chest begin to glow an ominous red.

"No!"

Smaug watched with apt curiosity as a small human female ran towards him, seemingly uncaring of the fire he was about to unleash on these pitiful creatures. He allowed his curiosity to get the better of him as she seemed to grow in size and girth, her cry lost as a roar escaped her lips. A roar that echoed his own.

Well now. That certainly made things interesting.

He had heard rumors of a golden dragon guarding the Lonely Mountain, but seeing as no one had ever seen the infamous drake led him to believe it was simply idle gossip. Yet, seeing this beautiful drake before him now left no doubt in his mind that the halls of Erobor housed an even greater treasure than he ever thought to imagine.

Female drakes were thought to have gone extinct long ago and he was the last of the great fire drakes. To see another like him was quite heady. It was even better as this drake was of the opposite sex and he had been long without companionship.

"Lovely dragoness," he hissed with pleasure.

Hermione was not completely unaffected as instincts that she did not know of seemed to call towards this obviously dominant male that her dragon side saw as a prime mate. However, her human side rebelled as this dragon was a horrible being that thrived on death and destruction.

Once those thoughts came to mind, it was easy to resist his dragon-spell.

Smaug was not pleased. His voice alone should have had this perfect golden female sliding her succulent frame against his own, but perhaps she had been tainted? Was it not only a few moments ago that he had seen her take on a human shape?

It was not unheard of from his kind, but most preferred not to as to do so would be seen as demoting oneself. Why become an inferior form when they had already achieved perfection?

In addition, it also caused human traits to become more prevalent as drakes that tended to favor those forms forgot their true instincts and became more like their two-legged counterparts. He hoped that his dragoness had not spent a long time in that form or else he would have a hard time removing those habits from her being.

"Leave this place. It is mine and I do not take kindly to those trying to take what I have claimed as my own," she said strongly.

My she was a feisty one. He found it quite amusing that she actually thought she had a chance against an older and more experienced drake such as himself. Nevertheless, he decided he would humor this young one. Besides, she was quite enchanting and perhaps would be more willing to submit if he played along?

"I did not realize that the rumors of the golden drake were true, however if I had known that a female drake was guarding the halls of Erobor, I would have come sooner to claim you sweetling."

Hermione found the endearment repulsive as she stepped away from the haughty drake and lowered her head in challenge. Let him taunt her, she would rather die than be his.

"Is that how it is?" Questioned Smaug with a feral grin. "I do not wish to hurt you as I lay claim to the dwarves treasure."

Her answer was a long stream of fire that had Smaug impressed by the strength and heat of her breath. Their young ones would surely be magnificent.

"Oh sweetling, you're just making me want you more."

"Bite me!"

The phrase was lost to the elder drake as he simply nodded his head. "Oh I will and you'll like it my lovely. I promise you that." And with that, the great dragon struck.

* * *

Thorin watched from below.

A great battle between two great dragons had taken to the skies as the clouds were lit with streams of fire and heat as the two drakes fought relentlessly.

He ignored the cheers of his people as the slender golden drake delivered a rather harsh blow to the bulkier male.

His attention was brought to another foe as orcs began to swarm his home by the hundreds. Their thirst for blood relentless, drawn in by the presence of Smaug and promise of destruction.

" _Yanâd Durinul! Du-bekâr!_ ," he called out. The answering cry was empowering as he too joined the fray to defend his home.

* * *

Hermione was growing tired as she found herself easily outmatched by this elder drake. His stamina was impressive as he seemed to be at ease. In fact, he was toying with her.

"Come now my little treasure. You did not surely think you were a match for me?" He said in amusement.

Growling deeply, Hermione called upon her inner magic as she blasted the drake with a very different type of breath. This one froze the air around them and caused him to pause.

"Well now. That is interesting pet. What else can you do?"

Hermione was actually surprised that actually worked. To be honest, it was very difficult to control and even more difficult to produce, but she would do her best to master this particular ability now.

"How about I show you," she raged as she attacked with a new vigor. A desperation that came from deep within to see Erobor and Dale safe.

* * *

Thorin watched as his people were slain as orcs ravaged his home and desecrated the land. Pandemoniom rained down as his people struggled to find refuge.

Looking to the horizon, he found the great eleven king Thrandruil watching the gruesome battle, but doing nothing to help. He called desperately for aide, but received nothing.

He cursed the elven lord and his cowardly people.

"DURIN SPAWN!" A pale orc with a sinister smile stared at him from across the field.

Thorin would see to it that this particular orc met his end at his blade.

* * *

Smaug grew tired of her continued attacks. They did hurt a touch, but nothing lasting or truly painful. The cold breath was something intriguing and had actually been quite concerning, but the little dragoness lacked control and skill so she was barely able to keep up with that particular assault. Now she was using her regular dragon fire and honestly, he was now bored with this game and wished to retire and claim the mountain and this female as his.

"Let us end this young one," he stated.

Before she could even respond, Hermione found his large frame curled around her own. His fangs pierced her hide like butter as he slid them into the soft jugular of her neck, not to kill but to exert his dominance.

A keening cry escaped her lips as she struggled to free herself. It proved fruitless as she found herself being wrapped tightly in his unyielding embrace.

Spots danced across her vision, as darkness began to engulf her. Struggling with her last bit of strength, she searched desperately for her prince in the chaos below and called out to him in an effort to warn him of Smaugs inevitable wrath.

"THORIN!"

Smaug felt his ire rise as his dragoness called out to that worthless dwarf Thorin.

He would see to it that the dwarf prince would fall and everything he owned would belong to Smaug the conquerer.

* * *

"THORIN!"

Hearing her cry, the dwarf prince looked to the heavens to see his love crushed in the constricting embrace of that filthy worm. Anger coursed through his very being as he gazed up at the now lifeless dragoness, blood staining her golden scales.

"SMAUG!"

The great fire drake turned towards the dwarven prince, refusing to let go of his newly acquired treasure. "The great prince from under the mountain. Behold as I now claim everything as my own."

As if to further illustrate his point, Smaug's long fork like tongue danced across the dragonesses' still form, lapping at her blood like it was a sweet ambrosia.

Thorin roared at the gloating dragon and headless to the cries of his men, ran forward to attack the beast. It was only the hands of his good friend and comrade that held him back and allowed him to narrowly escape the stream of dragon fire that would have surely killed him.

"Thorin. Look around you. Our people are dying and our kingdom is lost. We must flee!"

The young prince knew that he spoke words of truth, but his heart rebelled and wished to rescue his one.

Seeing the conflict on the young princes face, Balin took a firm hold of his prince's shoulders and urged him to see reason. "Please Prince, King Thorin. We need you. Your dragon will be safe as Smaug will not harm her."

He knew what he must do and despite the fact that his heart broke, he had to help his people. Hermione would never forgive him if she learned that he forsook others for her. "Yes. Yes Balin. We must go."

* * *

Dale was in flames.

After amassing the dwarves gold, Girion had foolishly thought that the dragon would not care for a human settlement.

He had thought wrong.

The next week, upon sunset, the great drake Smaug had lay waste to the fields. He was obviously toying with them as he seemed to glean a sick sort of pleasure out of seeing his people in their failed attempts to flee.

It was not even a half hour into this twisted game that a great golden drake came barreling out of nowhere and knocked the larger fire drake on his side.

The game was placed on hold as the larger dragon merely looked at the agitated golden drake in something akin to amusement. "Good evening sweetling. I see you're finally awake."

Hermione was not pleased. Upon waking, she found herself back in the halls of Erobor. The scent of death was heavy in the air and she had cried out upon seeing the charred remains of what could only be the dwarves or Erobor. Young, old. It did not matter to the fire drake as he had killed them all.

Gem like tears rolled down her golden scales as she cried for the loss of her people because that is exactly who they were. Her people.

Following the stench of the elder drake was easy as it clung to the air in thick plumes and there was no mistaking the flames of his dragon breath decimating the fields of Dale.

"No. You have already taken Erobor, you will not take Dale as well."

"Come now sweetling. They are nothing."

"They are people."

Smaug sighed. He was correct in his earlier assumption. His little treasure had spent far too much time in human form and actually sympathized with them. A shame really. He had hoped he wouldn't have to deal with rehabilitation, but the end justified the means and once she regained her true dragon mindset, she would see that he was correct. He was always correct.

"I'll make a deal with you sweetling. I'll spare this little town if you agree to give me a clutch."

"A clutch of what?" Came her honestly puzzled reply.

Smaug fought off a feral grin as he practically purred the next few words. "A dragon clutch dear one."

Hermione froze.

Mate? With this monstrosity?

"HERMIONE!"

The call was weak and she found herself peering down towards an elderly male. He looked to be approaching his golden years with a head full of gray hair with hints of a strong build that was most likely possessed in his youth. However, it was his clear blue eyes that brought back memories from what seemed to be a lifetime ago.

"Oh? And what do we have here sweetling?"

"Go Smaug. Go and return to the mountain and I will agree to mate," she said in a steady tone, once again twisting the words and not clarifying who or when.

"Very well. Go ahead and play human Hermione," he said her true name with a sneering condescension that made her want to claw his face off.

With a great flap of wings, the large fire drake retreated back to the Lonely Mountain no doubt ready to wallow in his new amassed wealth.

"Hermione?"

The shift came easily these days and it was fluid as she shrank down to her more familiar human form.

Shiron stared at the image of his beloved - for now that he had time to analyze his feelings he knew that he had loved her from the moment he found her. He was ashamed with how he had reacted upon learning her secret, but seeing her before him looking as if time had not touched her caused a tremor to race through his frame.

"Oh Shiron," she sighed.

And with that, he once again brought this beautiful woman into his arms as he held her closely and they cried.

They cried for lost lives.

They cried for a lost love.

However, they mostly cried for lost time that could have been spent with one another.

Once again, Shiron heard the distinct 'clinking' sound that let him know that Hermione's jewel like tears were once against hitting the stone path below them.

Stepping back, he gazed at her and found that she was still as beautiful as he remembered. "You look the same."

Reaching up, Hermione tenderly cradled his aged face and easily saw the boy she had come to care for in her short time here. "As do you."

"Hermione?"

Turning towards the newcomer, Hermione was surprised to see the young boy she had loved to hold now a strong man. "Girion!" She exclaimed and upon seeing the crown on his head and corrected herself. "King Girion?"

The question was clear, but Shiron merely shook his head and she knew not to press.

Girion stared at her in absolute awe. "You are the golden drake of Erobor?"

"Yes," she said.

"Why…? We would have… I would have…" It seemed as if the ruler was at a loss for words.

"Girion, you were so very young when I left you and I needed gold to help sustain my life force. Drakes need treasure not because we value wealth, but because it replenishes our cores and gives us life," she revealed to the two brothers.

"So that was why you said you needed to leave," said Shiron after a short silence.

Girion frowned at his elder brother. "You knew!?"

"Well, yes I knew about Hermione being a drake, but well, you see…"

Hermione simply shook her head. "That is neither here or now. I was able to buy some time, but I do not know how long Smaug will be content to simply lay in his vast wealth. Despite the lure of gold, dragons are easily bored. I prefer riddles and reading. Smaug prefers desolation and destruction."

Shiron sighed. "We need to evacuate."

"We can't just leave our city!" Protested Girion.

"Girion. He already destroyed Erobor. I saw one home destroyed. Please do not let another burn to ash," Hermione begged desperately.

The king shook his head in agreement as he frowned deeply. "Where will we go?"

"There are lakes to the south of here. We could build there."

Hermione disagreed. "It's too close to the Lonely Mountain. Smaug could easily destroy your newly built city if he so felt inclined."

"That is assuming that the dragon is not slain…" Girion trailed off.

Hermione frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Black arrows forged by the dwarves of the Iron Hills and blessed by the high elves. They are the only weapon strong enough to penetrate a dragons hide," said Shiron.

"You would need to get close enough and to do so would mean purposefully inciting his anger. How do you plan to do that?"

Shiron's grin was rather mischievous as she was reminded of days gone past when he was able to relax a bit and attempt to flirt with her horribly. "I can think of something that would definitely instigate his ire."

Hermione did not like that look at all.

* * *

Kissing Shiron was nice, but it did not send the same shivers of want like when she kissed Thorin.

However, it was rather pleasant and despite the fact that he was now much physically older, she could still recall the young boy that found her all those years ago. All in all, it was rather sweet.

"INFIDEL!"

Well, that planned worked magnificently and it seemed as if Shiron was more than happy to execute it.

"Yes Smaug?" Called the elderly man with a small quirk of his brow.

Hermione knew that Shiron did not have to fake being smug. In fact, he looked very much like the cat that ate the cream.

"You dare touch mine?"

And here it was with this possessive drivel that made her want to turn this arrogant dragon to ash.

As if to further increase the drake's anger, Shiron brought her much closer to his surprisingly still built frame. He must exercise a lot to be in such physical condition despite his age. She guessed that he had to be in his early to mid 50's by now. She didn't have to fake being impressed because she might have swooned a bit in his arms. She couldn't help it. He now reminded her of a more dashing George Clooney.

The following stream of fire was expected as she easily encased Shiron in a very strong protection charm that shuddered under the force of his breath.

"Hermione!"

Smaug's voice was scolding and reminded her of a parent reprimanding their young for going against their wishes. She grimaced at the comparison.

"It was a simple farewell kiss between friends. Surely you would not begrudge me of that," she placated somewhat half-heartedly.

Her goal was to keep him distracted enough so that Girion could level the arrow and fire it at the drakes soft underbelly.

Smaug was not pleased. He had spent a glorious morning basking in a vast pile of gold only to find himself reaching for a lovely little drake of the same coloring. It had displeased him to recall that she was playing human to some silly mortals, but he allowed her this particular fancy.

However, seeing her protect that pathetic man made him regret his decision. He would take her by the neck and bring her back to the mountain and then claim her properly. Come next sunrise, she would be carrying his clutch.

Roaring greatly, he flapped his giant wings and took to the sky. He would destroy this town and that man that dared taint his little treasure.

Seeing that he was properly enraged, Hermione pushed Shiron towards a protective circle she had created earlier and erected a powerful barrier that she prayed would keep him safe.

Running towards the town square, she led the irate drake towards the trap that she and her friends had set.

Smaug, seeing his dragoness still in human form, run deeper into the city gave chase. He easily gained on her mortal form and smiled as he drew closer to his prize. Just as he was about to sweep her into his claws, a sharp pain pierced his chest, just a few scant inches from his heart.

Red scales glowed with fury as he set his wrath upon the silly little king of this city, a loathsome black arrow aimed at himself.

Hermione called out to Girion as she tried to fortify the protection spells upon his area, but Smaug's fire was too strong and his ire too great.

Girion let out a last cry as he was then engulfed in dragon fire.

Seeing his brother fall to Smaug's fire caused Shiron to cry out and throw himself against the barrier that Hermione had erected. He wanted to take up arms and destroy the dragon himself.

However, he now had to witness another cruel fate.

Overcome with grief, Hermione barely fought off his advances as the mighty dragon Smaug swept her into one large clawed palm and flew off back towards his new home in the Lonely Mountain.

* * *

Hermione moaned as she regained consciousness, only to be level with one large golden eye peering at her carefully.

It was a rather daunting sight to wake to and she did scramble back upon a small pile of gold that had been placed underneath her for her comfort.

Smaug was both impressed and displeased, however amusement won over his previous anger. It was quite an intricate little plan his little treasure had assembled and worked quite well.

Too bad he was much too powerful to fall prey to a mortals attempt to destroy him.

"Welcome back to the land of the living sweetling."

Hermione stared around her to find herself in the familiar treasure room of Erobor. No matter how many times she slept upon the vast wealth, she was always pleasantly overwhelmed by its impressive size. It easily engulfed both she and Smaug and considering their combined size, that was quite large.

"Now about that clutch," he began with a hiss of pleasure.

"I said I would mate, I never said who or when" she said clearly.

Smaug was impressed by her ability to twist his words, however he was not deterred. If he had his way - and he alway did - she would be heavy with young come the next day.

Hermione simply stared at the great dragon, her body rolling towards a small pile of gold cast off to the side. This pile was particularly special because it housed a beautiful harp that was given as a gift to Thrór many years ago. A harp that she had never dared to play as it had a powerful ability.

 _ **FLASHBACK**_

"So what is this foolproof plan exactly should I not be able to slay the drake?"

"The dwarven king Thrór was gifted a golden harp many years ago. He did not think much of it, but his advisors knew its worth and revealed its true use."

Shiron frowned. "And what is its true use?"

Hermione sighed as she thought of the beautifully crafted instrument. "The harp is special as the strings are crafted from dragon heartstring and siren hair. It has the ability to place a drake into a deathlike sleep."

"For how long?" Girion questioned.

"At least a few centuries," she replied softly.

Shiron shook his head. "No. You are not going to play that god forsaken harp and put yourself to sleep for a couple hundred years!"

"Shiron," she began, "this may be our only hope. Smaug is a terrible force that gains pleasure from seeing others in pain. Besides, it won't kill me. I'll just be taking a very long nap."

"A very long nap to awaken in a world that I am not in," he replied softly.

At this, Hermione smiled sadly as she placed her head against his heart. "No, but you will be at peace having lived a long life safe from the likes of Smaug and that is something I would give anything to ensure."

"I never married you know."

Hermione had a feeling as he was the kind to fall in love only once. "Oh Shiron…."

"It's why Girion is king and I am not. I could not take a queen when I knew I had let you go," he said with regret.

The brunette shook her head. "Our time may have passed, but you will always be my first true friend here in this new world and I am so thankful to have met you Shiron."

The man simply laughed, but it was bittersweet. "And I am lucky to have met you Lady Drake. My Hermione."

 _ **END FLASHBACK**_

"May I play you a song?"

Smaug seemed quite pleased by her sudden acquiesce, but attributed it to her finally seeing his superiority. "Of course sweetling. Play me a tune so that I may rest."

"As you wish."

The sound was indeed soothing and she felt herself grow weary as the spell began to weave itself around the two drakes. It was difficult to continue playing, but she pressed on.

He was quick to fall asleep as he was still in dragon form, while Hermione took a bit longer to finally doze off. When she had, she too fell back upon the vast piles of gold.

Her last thought was of Thorin and his beautiful slate colored eyes, dancing with joy when she agreed to be his.

'Be safe _miz azyung_ and I will see you when I wake.

* * *

Shiron smiled wistfully as he stared at the Lonely Mountain from the newly built Lake Town.

"Uncle?"

Shiron smiled as he looked down at his niece. She was a beautiful girl with a head full of dark curls and his and his brother's same clear blue eyes. She was his shining joy and despite the fact that she had three siblings, he always felt closest to his niece as he had been the one to name her.

"Yes Hermione?"

"Why do you look so sad?"

"I'm simply remembering a dear friend," he sad as he lifted his niece up into his arms.

"Why don't you go see her?" She questioned with an innocence only a child could possess.

Shiron shook his head. "She's sleeping and won't wake up for a very long time."

Little Hermione nodded her head, appeased with her uncles answer. "Oh."

"Come now princess, I have a gift for you."

Gifts were apparently the easiest way to distract children as she seemed to light up with the prospect of a present.

Bouncing in his arms, Shiron was a bit unbalanced as he did his best to keep his niece from falling. "Settle down little Hermione."

"Yes uncle," she replied obediently as she held out her hands expectantly for her newest gift.

"Keep this with you always Hermione as it belonged to my dear friend," said Shiron as he placed a beautiful golden chain with perfect ruby teardrop at the end.

"It's beautiful uncle! Are you sure your friend will not mind?"

"Absolutely not. In fact, she would be honored to see such a beautiful girl wearing it," he replied easily.

"Thank you very much uncle," she gushed in joy as she easily slipped the long chain over her head.

Shiron smiled as he looked at the gleaming gem nestled against his niece's sternum. "You're welcome Hermione."

* * *

 **AN:** Somewhat bittersweet, but I thought appropriate given the situation. I love my created character Shiron, but unfortunately this is the last you will see of him. I needed to write in Bard's ancestors in there somehow and move it along to The Hobbit timeline. From here on out, it will briefly skim the books/movies. Have no decided if I wanted to include Tauriel… hmmm...

Translations:

 _ghivashel -_ treasure of all treasures

 _Yanâd Durinul! Du-bekâr! -_ Son's of Durin! To arms!

 _miz azyung -_ my love

Review?

\- Banana Flavored Eskimo


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